


A Short Engagement

by 27dragons



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Deaf Clint Barton, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Getting Together, M/M, Mechanic!Tony, Mutual Pining, photographer!Clint, sneaky!Ma Barton
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-31
Updated: 2015-12-31
Packaged: 2018-05-10 13:38:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5588020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/27dragons/pseuds/27dragons
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint called his ma back, and now, somehow, he and Tony are... engaged?</p>
<p><em>This</em> is why he doesn't call home more often.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Short Engagement

**Author's Note:**

  * For [InsaneJuliann](https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsaneJuliann/gifts).



"Honey, I'm home," Clint called as he shouldered the apartment door open, too exhausted to actually call it loudly enough to be heard from another room. The joke wasn't really funny anymore anyway, almost as tired as Clint himself, and just a pinch too painfully ironic. Clint hung his keys on the hook by the door and turned to put his gear away-- and nearly jumped out of his skin. "Jesus, don't do that."

"Sorry." Tony was standing right there, as if he'd been waiting behind the door for Clint to get home. He must've only worked a half-day at the auto shop; there were no grease smears on his face or arms, and his hair had that fluffy-curly thing going that it only did for a couple of hours after a shower.  Tony reached for Clint's heavy gear bags. "Give me those. Go put your baby away; I've got the whiskey rocks chilling in the freezer."

Clint's eyes narrowed even as he clutched his camera -- his baby and his livelihood -- to his chest. "Why do we need the whiskey rocks?" he asked suspiciously.

Tony glanced back over his shoulder as he hefted the gear bags, his dark eyes half-amused, half-sympathetic, in a way that made Clint's heart stutter. "You forgot your phone, and your mom called. I went ahead and answered, you know, just in case it was serious."

"Shit," Clint said, more a sigh than a true curse. "Is she okay?"

"She sounded about the same to me," Tony said. "You know she wouldn't tell me anything before she told you unless it was an emergency."

"I know, but that doesn't mean there's nothing wrong. You didn't, uh--"

"You are seriously not about to ask whether I gave up the game," Tony scolded. He toed open the door to Clint's bedroom and lifted the bags up onto Clint's desk, muscles bunching in ways that made Clint's mouth run dry. "After all this time, you are not going to ask me that."

"No, of course not," Clint backtracked. "Sorry. Ma's just... sharper than she lets on sometimes."

Tony flashed him a grin. "So am I. Don't worry, she still thinks we're an item. She wants you to call back."

Clint ignored the way his body brushed Tony's in the small space and opened the desk drawer, nestling his camera safely in its foam nest. "Of course she does. God forbid she nag _you_ about our so-called relationship; she needs to poke and prod at me directly."

Tony patted Clint's shoulder. "Thus, the rocks in the freezer."

"Best fake boyfriend ever," Clint singsonged. They'd started that fiction a couple of years ago when Ma had been hounding him to date more and think about settling down. It had been Tony's idea -- they were roommates anyway, and it wasn't like she could drop in without warning from twelve hundred miles away. It had seemed like a good idea, and had worked perfectly right up until about six months ago, when Clint had realized he wanted to get rid of the "fake" part of the "fake boyfriends" story. He was still working on a way to bring up the topic without making things incredibly awkward between them if Tony laughed in his face. (Also, he was working on convincing himself there was even a chance Tony wouldn't laugh in his face. They were friends, sure, but Tony was so far out of Clint's league that it wasn't even funny.)

Clint finished unpacking the memory cards and backup drive so he could review today's pictures later and send the best ones to Steve for retouching. After he called his mother, apparently. He scrubbed a hand through his hair and sighed. "You wanna trade parents?" He didn't really mean it. His ma could be frustrating, but he loved her dearly.

"Yes," Tony said easily. He probably _did_ mean it; Tony's parents were assholes of the first water. Their little dating fiction had been more or less the death knell for that relationship, and Tony had waved off all of Clint's guilty apologies for it, insisting he was better off without.

Still, Clint hated to bring it up if he didn't have to. "Sorry," he said. "I didn't mean--"

"Call your mom," Tony said, turning for the door. "I'll fix drinks."

"Yeah." Clint took a deep breath, picked up his phone from where Tony had left it charging on the desk, and thumbed the redial.

"Clinton! How nice to see you haven't entirely forgotten me."

"Ma, I was _working_ , okay, I'm a photographer, that means I work weekends a lot."

"That's what Tony told me," Clint's mother said tartly, "but that doesn't mean you can't call me on one of the _other_ days of the week."

Clint sat on the edge of the bed and put his head in his free hand. "Cut me some slack," he said. "What's going on?"

"It's your anniversary," she said. "I thought I'd call and congratulate you."

Clint's eyes turned automatically toward the calendar over the desk, though it wasn't like he would find anything there; he and Tony hadn't filled in that many details for their deception. "Is it?"

Ma sighed. "I guess that means you boys don't have anything special planned."

"Guys don't really go in for that romantic bullshit crap, Ma."

"Some of them do! I was watching some really lovely videos on the internet last week, and--"

"Okay, _some_ guys do, but _Tony and I_ don't. Tony had to work this morning and I had to work all day; we're probably going to order out and catch a game or-- Wait, what do you mean, videos?" Clint grimaced even as he said the words. Why had he asked that? He really did _not_ want to know the answer.

"Well, there were some weddings, and a few really gorgeous proposals. I swear, I teared up, and they weren't even for me!"

Clint groaned out loud. "Ma, no."

"I just want to know that you're taken care of, Clinton. I'm not going to be around forever."

Cold clutched at Clint's stomach. "Ma? There's not..."

"Nothing for you to worry about," Ma said, which was not reassuring. She'd probably tell Clint it was "just a minor setback" when they were shoveling dirt onto her grave. "We're all living on borrowed time anyway. I just want to know you're going to have someone who loves you by your side."

Clint groaned just as Tony came back in carrying two glasses, half-full of honey-amber liquid and his weird snooty rocks. "So, what's she on about this time?" Tony asked as he handed over one of the glasses.

Clint rolled his eyes. "She wants to know when I'm going to make an honest man of you."

Tony laughed.

"That is not what I said!" she protested.

"It's what you were leading up to," Clint said.

Tony, still chuckling, jerked a thumb at Clint's calendar. "We're both free next weekend, for a change."

Clint smirked. "Yeah, sure, let's get married next weekend, why not?"

"Oh my god!" his mother shrieked.

"Ma, no, calm down. It was--"

"OH MY GOD."

"Wait, Ma--"

"Have to go, I'll need to go now if I want to book a flight tonight!" It came out like one long word: _Havetogoillneedtogonowifiwanttobookaflighttonight!_ Before Clint could protest again, could explain that he and Tony had been joking around, she'd hung up.

Clint stared at the phone.

He looked up, and Tony was staring at him, wide-eyed. "Did... did she just take us seriously?" Tony asked cautiously.

"I... I think so."

"Well, quick, call her back!"

"Yeah. Yeah, obviously." Clint poked at the redial, listened, then made a face and hung up. "Busy signal. I guess she's trying to find a flight."

Tony scrubbed his face with his hands. "How does your mom not have voice mail?"

Clint shrugged. "I dunno, she's never cared about that stuff."

"Send her an email, then. I know she has a computer!"

Clint snorted. "There's no way she's going to check her computer before she packs and heads for the airport. We only got her off _dial-up_ last year."

"Fuck." Tony downed the rest of his whiskey. Then he plucked Clint's glass out of his hands and drank what was left of that, too.

Clint flopped back on the bed. "Yeah. Well." He let out a long sigh. "Okay, well, she was due for a visit anyway, right? We'll just... wait until she gets here and then tell her we were joking, and make sure she has a nice visit, no harm done."

Tony gave him a dubious look, then shrugged. "Okay, sure. It's your mom, your bad idea wins." He sighed and rubbed at his temples. "I'm going to go dig up some clean sheets."

  
  


***

  
  


Clint's mom was tiny, barely over four and a half feet tall, and an intermittent series of battles with cancer over the last decade had made her look ethereally thin and frail.

At least, until you started talking to her and realized she had a force of personality with all the impact of a steam locomotive.

She swept into the apartment, suitcase in her hand and Clint still trying in vain to take it from her has he followed her up the steps. She dropped the case as she came through the door and reached up to hug Tony tightly.

That wasn't new; she'd been treating Tony like a member of the family since he and Clint had announced to both their respective families that they were dating. It had been one of Tony's more inspired ideas, really. Clint's mom had stopped nagging Clint about finding someone to settle down with, and Tony's dad had stopped talking to him pretty much entirely -- Tony was pretty sure that if he had a sibling, he'd have been disinherited altogether. Tony didn't miss his dad at all, and Clint's mom more than made up for that parental void in his life.

And all it cost was a couple of weeks a year of actually acting like a couple, which made Tony ache in ways he didn't think he could give up.

Tony hugged her back, mindful of her delicate frame. Was she even thinner than she'd been last year? "It's great to see you," he said, in complete honesty, "but you really didn't have to rush out here like this."

"Of course I did," she scolded fondly. "I wouldn't miss this for all the world!" She released Tony but kept hold of one of his hands, then reached out to capture Clint's hand as well. "I'm so proud of you boys."

Tony had to work to swallow past the sudden lump in his throat. He looked at Clint over her head and raised his eyebrows significantly. _Tell her_.

Clint grimaced and shook his head, just a fraction. _Not yet_.

Tony suppressed a sigh and took her suitcase from Clint. "I'll go put this in Clint's room for you, Mrs. Barton," he said, "and you can sit and rest from the trip while Clint makes up the couch." Clint always slept on the couch when his mother visited, ceding her the comfort and privacy of his room.

She snorted indelicately. "It's 'Ma' now, Tony, and I think it's time to stop pretending that you've been sleeping separate all this time."

"Uh, what?" Clint managed.

"Oh, come now," she chided. "It's sweet of you to keep your old bed in your office for your visitors to use, but you don't think I ever believed you actually slept in it when I wasn't here, did you? Now that you're going to be married, I think we can do away with that bit of social fiction. You boys go ahead and keep sharing that nice big bed in the other bedroom, and all I'll ask is for you not to get up to any hanky-panky until you've given me half an hour or so to drop off, all right?"

"But I, uh--" Clint's face was fire-engine red, and if the ache in Tony's cheeks was any sign, so was his own.

Clint's mouth opened and closed soundlessly a few times as he scrambled for an objection that wouldn't give up the whole game immediately, and then he seemed to sag. "Yeah, Ma, that's, uh. You bet, no problem."

  
  


***

  
  


Tony's bed _was_ bigger than Clint's, but with both of them in it, it surely _seemed_ smaller. Clint held himself stiffly on the edge of the mattress, trying not to encroach on Tony's space any more than he had to.

"Jesus, would you just relax?" Tony muttered. Clint's hearing aid was out, but he'd put his bad ear toward the wall. "It's not like we haven't slept in the same bed before."

"I'm not drunk this time," Clint pointed out.

"Neither am I," Tony said, throwing an arm over his face. "I promise, I won't molest you if you accidentally touch me or something."

It wasn't _being_ molested that Clint was worried about, but doing the molesting himself, but he could hardly explain that his sleeping brain might interpret the warm, slightly metallic scent of a nearby Tony as a signal to replay all his best, most pathetic dream-fantasies. As if those thoughts weren't already close enough to the surface as it was. He shrugged and wormed his way a little closer to the center of the bed and tried not to feel the heat radiating from Tony's body next to him.

"Why didn't we tell her?" Tony asked after a couple of minutes of awkward shuffling and silence.

The darkness made it easier for the words to slide past the sudden lump in his throat. "I think she's getting sick again," Clint confessed. "She looked so _tired_ \--"

"It's a long trip," Tony tried, but from the sound of his voice, even he was having trouble believing it.

"It hasn't tired her this much before," Clint said. "And this obsession with seeing me settled."

Tony grunted, and his hand closed on Clint's arm, squeezing carefully.

"I don't know," Clint sighed. "I just... I don't want to upset her right now. Let's just go along with it for a while, and see how she's doing."

Tony sighed and withdrew his hand, and flopped over so his back was to Clint. "Yeah, fine," he said. "But you owe me."

"Absolutely," Clint said. He'd want a favor for having to pretend to be in love with him, too. "You name it."

Tony drew a breath as if he was going to reply, then let it sigh out again. Clint was mildly disappointed; along with everything else to like about Tony, Clint loved his snappy rejoinders and sharp wit, even when it was aimed at Clint.

But Tony seemed to be done with conversation for the night. It was only another few minutes before his breathing evened out and went shallow in sleep.

Clint rolled over and looked at the back of Tony's head in the dim light filtering in from the street, his hair already mussed and tousled. He was wearing a loose tank, and Clint took only slightly guilty advantage of Tony's sleeping state to ogle. Despite his slight build, Tony was muscular from his work at the auto shop, sculpted even in repose. Clint ached to touch, to run a finger along the line of Tony's tricep, to pull him closer and taste the curve of his shoulder--

Clint closed his eyes tightly so he wouldn't give in to the temptation. He expected sleep would be a while in coming.

  
  


***

  
  


_Warm_ was the first thing that slid through Tony's thoughts as he was waking up, and then _safe_ and _snuggly_ and that was so weird that he jolted the rest of the way through the sleepy cotton fluff to full wakefulness.

Sometime during the night, Tony had backed into Clint, nestling into the warm curve of his body. Clint's arm had wrapped around Tony's waist, presumably reacting to the intimacy of another body's nearness without fully comprehending exactly who he was spooning.

Tony's head was tucked under Clint's chin and their legs were tangled together, Tony's ass fitting neatly into the cradle of Clint's hips. Tony felt cocooned and protected, and it was everything he'd ever imagined it might be, except for the cold ball of reality in the center of his chest reminding him that it wasn't real.

Tony pushed the cold away and closed his eyes. If this was all he could have, he was going to damn well enjoy what he could of it.

Clint shifted in his sleep, then hummed and pressed his body more tightly against Tony's. Clint's cock fit neatly along the line of Tony's crack and began to twitch and swell, growing quickly into morning wood.

An ache of lust and longing shot through Tony so hard it left a physical ache in his chest, but it seemed like crossing a line to let it go any further. Tony made himself wake up enough to scoot a few inches away.

Clint's arm tightened around Tony's waist, pulling him back. As Tony tried to inch away again without waking Clint up, Clint nuzzled at the back of his neck, and Tony yelped.

Clint startled awake and froze for half a second, then scrambled back, cursing as his limbs tangled in the blanket. "Shit, _shit_ , sorry, I didn't, I'm sorry, I don't know what I was, fuck, shit!"

"Oh my god, relax," Tony said, telling himself it was ridiculous to feel hurt at Clint's mad scramble to put as much distance as possible between them. "You were asleep, you didn't realize, I get it. You don't have anything I haven't seen before." They'd been roommates for years, after all; there had been a few Naked Incidents.

Clint flopped onto his back with a groan. "Okay, yeah, well. Prob'ly should'a at least bought you dinner first before feeling you up." He grinned, having obviously recovered his equilibrium and sense of humor.

Tony snorted and sat up, swinging his feet to the floor. "How about you make the coffee and let me have the first shower?" he proposed.

"What? You're not going to bring me breakfast in bed? Damn, I thought the romance would last at least until after the wedding." Clint was laughing too hard to dodge the pillow Tony smacked into his face.

  
  


***

  
  


"How did we get here?" Tony hissed.

"I don't know," Clint muttered back. He glanced around the crowded waiting room nervously.

"I mean, I know _how_ ," Tony continued, not listening to Clint at all, "but we were just going to take your mom out for lunch, Clint! How did we end up here?" His lowered voice was not so much lowered any more. "Why are we at City Hall?"

"To apply for a marriage licence," Clint answered, because that was why his ma had dragged them here.

"I _know_ that," Tony growled. Clint tried not to take it personally. It was impossible to be mad at Ma, and Tony had to work out his frustration on _some_ one. Tony brandished the piece of paper he held in Clint's face. "She planned this!" he said. "She went looking in my desk! I did _not_ just leave my birth certificate sitting out for her to _happen_ to see!"

"I know," Clint sighed. She'd brought a copy of Clint's certificate from home with her, too. "I _know_ , it's just... this whole thing is just snowballing and I have no idea how to stop it now."

Tony glowered at him for a moment later, and then his shoulders slumped. "Me, either," he said. "Did you fill in your part of the form yet?"

Clint looked down at the application for a marriage license. It seemed entirely too simple for something so momentous. "Yeah, just about." He signed where it told him to, and wrote in the date.

"Clint!" called Ma's voice across the muted waiting room. "Tony! Look who I stumbled across in the restroom!"

Clint looked up. He could almost feel Tony turning pale next to him: coming across the room in Ma's wake was Tony's friend Pepper. "Oh, shit," Tony whispered. Clint couldn't have agreed more.

Ma pulled up in front of them, practically glowing. "She can be your witness, Tony!" Pepper had that bright, slightly predatory look on her face she got when she was planning something particularly diabolical.

Tony blinked several times rapidly. "You don't need a witness to get a license," he said slowly.

"Of course not, silly," Ma laughed. "But since Pepper and I are right here, we might as well go straight upstairs and see the judge! I know you boys said next weekend, but since it was rather spur-of-the moment anyway, I figured you wouldn't mind."

"Ma," Clint protested, "there's probably a huge wait. Wouldn't you rather--"

"Nah, not really," Pepper said, still with that maniacal gleam in her eyes. "Half an hour, tops."

"What are you even _doing_ here?" Tony demanded.

Pepper didn't seem at all put out by Tony's belligerent tone. "Rhodey and I are going to start a consulting firm," she said easily, taking out her phone and tapping at it rapidly. "I came down to file the business license."

"Congratulations," Clint said, because Pepper and Rhodey had been talking about doing that for a couple of years now. Then he said, "Ow!" because Tony had kicked his ankle. "What the hell, dude? Be happy for your friend!"

"Of course I am," Tony said, though he said it through a slightly strained smile. "Pep, can I have a word with--"

"Number 74!" the woman at the counter called.

"That's us!" Ma squeaked excitedly. "I mean, you! That's you! Go on, go go go!" She pulled Clint out of his chair and shooed him and Tony eagerly in the direction of the counter.

When Clint glanced back over his shoulder, Pepper was still waiting, tapping on her phone and nodding along to something that Ma was telling her.

  
  


***

  
  


Pepper took her role as witness completely seriously, and actually turned off her phone for the ceremony, such as it was.

"Not going to film it for posterity and blackmail?" Tony joked as Clint's mom helpfully spelled their names for the judge, who was too polite to tell her that he could read them perfectly well off the marriage license. "Y'know, do it for the Vine--" He broke off at Pepper's raised eyebrow.

"This is a big step, Tony," she said. "It's happy, but it's serious, too. I know you and Clint like to joke around, but this is no laughing matter."

If Tony stopped cracking jokes about it, though, he was going to burst with how much he wanted it to be _real_. Pepper must have seen a hint of that buried anguish in his eyes, because her expression softened and she squeezed his arm, leaning close to kiss his cheek.

"Pep, I need to--"

"Mr. Stark," the judge said, "if you will attend, please? There are others waiting their turn."

Gulping, Tony turned to face the judge, afraid to look at Clint for fear he would burst out laughing. Or crying. At this point, Tony wasn't sure which would be more humiliating.

The ceremony itself was a bit of a whirlwind, and Tony didn't remember much of it, aside from the fact that it was very short, and that the vows he dutifully repeated to the judge's prompting reminded him a little of their roommate agreement, which was oddly comforting. They had no rings -- even Clint's mom hadn't thought of that -- so the judge skipped that bit and moved right on to "I now pronounce" and "you may kiss".

That was a little weird. Half of Tony wanted to do it right, make it good, something to enjoy and remember, since he was only going to get this one shot at it. But the other half of him was busily pointing out the way mom and Pepper and even the _judge_ were just... _staring_ at them, waiting expectantly, and the judge had said there were other people waiting their turn. So before he could overthink it -- or even really _think_ it -- he leaned in and tipped up his chin and gave Clint a quick, chaste kiss, pulling away before Clint could respond.

Then the judge was signing the officiant's line on the marriage license and handing it off to the waiting clerk to be notarized and filed, and--

\--and they were _married_.

Tony blinked. He didn't wake up. The world didn't dissolve around him. Tony blinked again.

Someone took his hand. Tony looked down at the hand closed around his, and then followed the arm upward, eventually focusing on Clint's face. Clint's smile was somewhere between rueful and sympathetic and maybe just a little worried. "C'mon, let's get Ma back home. It's been a busy day."

Tony relaxed, and only then realized that he'd been braced for Clint to make a joke, to make light of this thing that had happened that wasn't a joke at all. He was inexpressibly grateful that Clint had somehow understood. Later, it would be funny. Later, they'd be able to be sarcastic asshats to each other about it and it would be okay. Right now, though... Right now, Tony just needed to process it.

Pepper's phone was back in her hand before they'd made their way back to the elevator, and she was smiling that secretive smile that meant she was planning something, and accepted brightly when Clint's mom invited her back to their apartment. Tony began to get an inkling when they got to the subway and found Rhodey waiting there for them, grinning wide and offering his hand to them in congratulations. Naturally, he was invited along as well.

Shit, this was going to be a _nightmare_ to undo, not just legally, but with their friends as well. They were going to be hearing about this for _years_. Tony looked at Clint as the train lurched into motion, and Clint responded with a faint grimace and a wince.

They heard the party before they even reached their own block, and Tony _knew_ what Pepper had been up to with her phone, even before he saw the windows thrown wide, and the impromptu bedsheet banner hanging from the fire escape rail that read _CONGRATS CLINT AND TONY_ in what even Tony recognized as Steve's neat hand.

"Pepper," he groaned. He couldn't believe Pepper had shanghaied so many people into throwing a party just to mock them for their weird fake (but sort of real) marriage.

"Oh, come on," she said. "I had to tell Rhodey and Nat! And if I was going to tell Nat, I might as well tell Steve and Bucky and Sam, too, right? And Bruce would've felt hurt if I hadn't told him! And--"

"I get it, I get it," Tony sighed. "But a _party_? How the heck did you--"

"Nat has the spare key," Clint said, rubbing at his forehead. "You know, for emergencies and stuff."

"Right," Tony said as they climbed the stairs, because he remembered that now. He eyed Pepper suspiciously. "This is fast work, though, even for you."

"Well, I was originally going to organize something for the weekend, but everyone was free, so..." She shrugged, and smiled at him. "We're all just really happy for you guys."

Obviously, Pepper was getting better at that super-smooth sarcasm delivery.

At least, if they had to have a mocking-party, their friends had made the "party" part of it good. Someone had brought some good music, and there was a startling amount of food, and someone had laid in some really excellent booze. That last was Natasha, Tony figured, by the amount of quality vodka on the bar.

Speak of the devil... "You two finally got your heads out of your asses, I see," she said from nowhere, making Tony jump and nearly spill his drink.

He sighed and put the cup down. "Okay, let's get this over with," he said, facing her squarely. She was Clint's best friend; Tony figured she'd been given the honor of starting off the mockery.

"No, it's good," Natasha protested. She smiled, eerily genuine. "I'm glad you finally figured out that he's been mooning after you since forever. Be good to him, or I'll kill you and they'll never find the body."

Wait, what?

But Natasha didn't hang around long enough for Tony to ask her about it; she just hugged him gently and refilled her drink, and then went off in search of someone else.

Tony stared at the faux wood-grain on the bar for a long moment, trying to process what she'd said, then decided she was just fucking with him in an even more roundabout way than usual. He shook it off and refilled his own drink, then went to challenge Steve to a game of MarioKart, because the way Steve cursed when someone blue-shelled him was a party all its own.

It wasn't until later, after Clint's mom had gone to bed and their impromptu party had finally wound down and everyone had staggered out and Tony and Clint were gingerly easing their way into Tony's bed, and Tony was trying not to remember the way Clint had been wrapped around him that morning, that he recalled what Natasha had said.

"Nat said the craziest thing earlier," he said, trying to arrange the covers without looking at the muscles on Clint's thighs.

"Yeah?" Clint was fiddling with his hearing aid to take it out, but he paused, head cocked to listen.

"Yeah, something about you having a crush on me for a long time." Tony's mouth was already open to follow that up with something about how Natasha's prank game was slipping, but he hadn't counted on Clint's full-body flinch. "Whoa, hey, what was that?"

Clint was actually _cringing_ , shoulders hunching up as he tried to make himself small. He rolled away until his back was to Tony. "Sorry," he muttered, quickly fumbling out his hearing aid, which was the kind of dick move he tended to pull when he was embarrassed or hurt. "I mean, it's... I'll keep it to myself, you don't have to feel sorry for me or anything. Can we just... not talk about it right now?"

Tony blinked, and the world suddenly seemed very bright, considering the late hour. He put a hand on Clint's shoulder and pulled Clint over onto his back.

"Tony," Clint whined, turning his head to look away, refusing to listen. "Seriously, it's not a big-- _oof_!"

Tony looked down from where he was sitting on Clint's stomach. He leaned over, planting his hands on either side of Clint's head, forcing Clint to look at him. "It's a big deal," Tony said slowly. "If she was telling the truth, if you really like me _back_? It's a huge fucking deal, and I'm not waiting until morning."

Clint's mouth had drawn up tight and unhappy, but at that, his jaw went slack. "Like me _back_?" he whispered, barely audible. His eyes sought Tony's, flicking minutely as they searched for some sort of truth there. "Did you say _like me back_?"

Tony nodded, just slightly. "Yeah. Yes. I did."

Clint gasped in a breath that hitched, just slightly, too fast for Tony to identify as a laugh or a sob. "All this time," he said, "we've been pretending to be together, and we could have really been?"

Tony huffed out his own soft laugh. "I guess so."

"Huh," Clint said. He looked at Tony's eyes again, more steadily this time, still searching but less wary. "Okay, don't freak out," he whispered. His hand came up, wrapped carefully around the side of Tony's neck, thumb sliding gently along the line of Tony's jaw, and then Clint lifted his head to brush his lips against Tony's.

Tony's heart jumped in his chest and he leaned closer, pressing their mouths more firmly together. His lips parted, and Clint's tongue was there, waiting to tease into Tony's mouth.

Clint let out a noise, a half-desperate groan, and Tony swallowed the sound and then gave it back, a whimper of longing and need finally unleashed. He shifted his weight to slide his arms around Clint's neck, flattened his body against Clint's, and gasped as their already half-hard cocks rubbed together, the heat and friction glorious even with two pairs of underwear in the way.

"Oh god," Tony gasped as Clint rolled them onto their sides so they could touch and grope and writhe as they kissed. "God, Clint. S'been so-- Not... Not gonna last."

Clint let out a harsh laugh. "Me either," he said, and twined their legs together. "S'okay. We'll, we'll get another chance on round two, yeah?" He was nosing at Tony's neck and thrusting against Tony's hips, both of them hard and aching and panting for every breath, and it was hot and messy and hurried and, god, so _perfect_. "Come on," Clint groaned, breath spilling over Tony's throat, hot and tickling just enough to make Tony shiver. "It's okay, just. Just don't stop, don't-- God, Tony, _god_."

Tony clutched at the back of Clint's t-shirt with one hand and wrapped the other around the tight curve of Clint's ass, helping to set the rhythm. They were both going to come in their underpants like horny teenagers, but he couldn't imagine stopping even long enough to take them off.

A bright spark ignited in his balls and sent waves of fire rushing through his limbs, down his legs to make his toes curl, up into his arms and his throat. "Oh fuck," he said into Clint's ear. "Clint, I'm gonna--"

"Come on," Clint said, "it's okay, Tony, I've got you, come on."

Tony couldn't have held back that rushing fire if he'd wanted to. His throat closed and he tightened his hold on Clint as he came, his rocking rhythm growing jerky and stuttered.

"Tony, yes, shit, _yes_ ," Clint gasped, his own movements growing frantic, and then his cock pulsed against Tony's stomach, damp heat flooding everything.

For a long moment they didn't move, simply panting for air, and then as if some silent signal had been exchanged, they both flopped over onto their backs. Tony began to catch his breath and he reluctantly forced himself to move, lifting his hips just enough to ease his soiled boxer-briefs off. He used a dry corner of them to wipe the smears from his abdomen and thighs, then threw them toward the corner where the clothes basket was.

Clint did the same, and then chuckled. "I can't believe we did that," he said. "That was... that was the most ridiculous thing I've ever done."

Tony started laughing, too. "Not even in the top five," he countered.

Clint laughed even harder at that, which made _Tony_ laugh more. Every time Tony tried to stop laughing and catch his breath, Clint set him off again. "Oh god, stop it, _stop_ ," Clint choked, exploding into a fresh spate of slightly hysterical giggles.

Finally, they managed to calm down a little. Clint rolled into Tony's side and propped his forearms on Tony's chest. "So, what, um. What if we stayed married?" he asked. "See how it goes."

Warmth flooded Tony's chest, and he had to swallow back a sudden lump in his throat. "Okay."

"Okay?" Clint sounded slightly surprised. "Really?"

Tony wiped a bead of sweat from Clint's temple, then caught his chin and pulled him down for a kiss, slow and gentle and deep. "Yeah. Okay. On one condition."

"What's that?" Clint's voice was breathless and husky, his eyes wide and dark as he stared at Tony in the dim light filtering in from the street.

Tony slipped his lips down the line of Clint's jaw, nipping sharply just under his ear. "We get that round two before we go to sleep."

  
  


***

  
  


For the second day in a row, Clint woke curled around someone else, lazy morning wood pressing into a firm backside, the scent of hot metal and sweat and warm sleep filling Clint's nostrils.

_Tony_ , his memory supplied, and a jolt of adrenaline raced up Clint's spine, just as it had the day before: _he wasn't supposed to let on_ , Tony couldn't find out! But the instant he moved, pushing himself up on his elbow, he registered the way his body ached and the way their fingers were twined together against Tony's stomach. His eyes fell on a dark bruise on Tony's neck. Clint's memory, finally coming online, replayed a moment for him, Tony's head tipped back and gasping, fingers clenching at Clint's shoulders as he sucked that mark into Tony's skin.

Tony shifted in response to Clint's movement, but didn't wake fully. He let go of Clint's hand and wriggled around until he was sprawled on his stomach, his face turned toward Clint, one arm shoved up under the pillow and the other draped over the side of the bed. His features slack in sleep, he looked younger, more vulnerable, and Clint wanted to curl back around him and protect him -- from what, Clint didn't know. Tony's hair was flat on one side and crazily tangled on the other, and it shouldn't have been appealing, Clint knew, but god help him, it _was_.

He wanted to push his fingers through that hair and make it all stand on end, just to make Tony laugh, and then kiss and nibble his way down Tony's spine, teasing until they were both crazy from the anticipation and wanting--

Clint's morning wood was no longer lazy, but Tony looked so peaceful that Clint couldn't bring himself to wake Tony up. Before he could talk himself into changing his mind, he heard his Ma moving around in the living room, which effectively killed all remaining thoughts of a morning tumble. He kissed Tony's forehead and carefully slid out of the bed. He put on his hearing aid, because Ma would frown if she saw him wandering around without it, and since all his clean clothes were in his own room across the hall, stole Tony's bathrobe off its hook.

Ma looked up when Clint shuffled into the kitchen, gracing him with a happy smile. "You're up early," she said. "Coffee'll be done in a few."

"You're my favorite," Clint muttered, dropping into his chair at the kitchen table.

Ma reached up into the cabinet to retrieve mugs. "Shouldn't Tony be your favorite?" she teased.

Clint waved a vague hand and clarified, "My favorite Ma."

"I guess I can accept that," she said with a laugh. She poured coffee into two mugs and set one in front of Clint. He wrapped his hands around the mug with a satisfied sigh and watched as she found milk in the fridge for her own cup. She settled across from Clint and looked around as she took her first sip. "Your friends left less mess than I was expecting," she admitted.

"Pepper was here," Clint said. "An' Sam. They're kinda anal about that sort of thing."

"Not a very nice thing to say about friends who did so much work for you," Ma chided.

Clint grunted. "True, though," he said, and raised the mug to his lips, let the coffee sear the fuzz of sleep from his mouth.

"If you'll let me borrow your phone," Ma said after another couple of sips, "I'll change my plane ticket to go home tomorrow."

Clint blinked at her. "You just got here," he said.

"Well, yes, but you hardly want your mother in your way for your honeymoon." She directed a pointed look at his chest, and Clint looked down to realize the bathrobe had fallen open, revealing the row of red marks Tony had left along his collarbone.

"Uh," he said, unable to suppress the blush that climbed up his neck. He tugged the bathrobe tighter around him as she chuckled knowingly. The muffled sound of Tony's alarm went off in the bedroom, followed shortly by the sound of Tony groaning in protest.

"It's not _really_ a honeymoon, though," Clint said. "I mean, we've both got to go to work today and everything."

"Still, you don't need me underfoot," Ma said briskly. "What little time you get together should be _together_."

The bedroom door opened and Tony emerged wearing boxers and a wrinkled t-shirt. Clint got up and poured another mug of coffee, pressing it into Tony's hands as he shuffled his way into the kitchen. "You're my favorite," Tony mumbled into the mug.

Ma put a hand over her mouth to hide her smile.

Clint rolled his eyes and maneuvered Tony into his recently-vacated chair. Whatever revelations they'd had last night, it didn't seem to have changed anything about the way they were with each other. Clint's gut released a knot he hadn't realized had been there, and he leaned against the chair to hide his relief.

Looking at the way his ma was smiling fondly at Tony's morning zombie act, though, reminded him that he had one more bit of business to clear up. "I kinda feel like I should tell you... Tony and I were never actually dating."

Ma shifted the fond smile to him, and she ruffled his hair as she carried her coffee mug to the sink. "I know that."

"What?" Clint demanded, in concert with Tony's startled, "You _knew_?"

Ma turned to face them with a soft, pitying look. "Of course I knew! Neither one of you is a very good liar, you know. It was amusing for a while, but then it just got _sad_ , watching you make puppy eyes at each other all the time and knowing you _should_ be together."

"So you, what, tricked us into getting _married_?" Clint asked. His voice sounded somewhat shrill to his own ears, but he didn't much care.

"Well, nothing else I'd tried was working," Ma said reasonably. "Drastic times, and all that." Her eyes flicked significantly to Clint's collarbone, even though the robe was still covering it, and then to Tony's neck, bruise proudly on display. "It seems to have worked."

"Ma," Clint groaned, hiding his face in his hands.

"Wait," said Tony, who had reached the bottom of his coffee. "Have you been faking being sick?"

" _Tony_ ," Clint said in despair.

"It's a valid question!" Tony said.

"Not faking," Ma said to Tony. "But I might have exaggerated the symptoms a little."

" _Ma_. Not okay!"

Ma smiled and patted Clint's shoulder. "I'm done now, I promise," she said blithely. "Give me your phone and go take your shower. Natasha promised to take me sightseeing while you two are at work today."

"But--" Clint broke off when Tony's arms wrapped around his waist and pulled him down into Tony's lap.

"She outsmarted us again," Tony said, nuzzling Clint's ear. "I think we have to just bow to her wisdom. Mother knows best, apparently."

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Fic idea credit goes to [this fake engagement prompt list](http://everyworldneedslove.tumblr.com/post/120463490634/).


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